Sowing Season
by magicallydeliciousbean
Summary: Tom Havelock's wife Scarlett loved only two things. She loved her garden, and what she grew in it: beans. Tom was tired of his loveless relationship, so he decided to get rid of Scarlett. To kill Scarlett. (From "Secret Window, Sercret Garden")
1. Scarlett and her Beans

A/N: I am not trying to satirize Stephen King's work, but I think that it would have been more complete if he had included this in his book "Secret Window, Secret Garden". After finishing this novel, I felt not quite complete, and I realized that for me to appreciate this story in it's entirety I need to know what it was based around. For this reason, I decided to write my interpretation of the story "Sowing Season" as told by Mort Rainey. The first and very last paragraphs of this story (I will indicate the very last paragraph when we come to it) are copyrighted by Stephen King; Although I use them without his permission, I am acknowledging that I was not original in this idea or those two paragraphs, and I am merely filling out the middle of a story. PLEASE REVIEW, I REALLY WANT CONSTRUCTIVE CRITISISM HERE!  
  
"Sowing Season"  
  
Scarlett and her Beans  
  
A woman who would steal your love when your love was all you had wasn't much of a woman- that, at least, was Tommy Havelock's opinion. He decided to kill her. He even knew the place he would do it, the exact place: the little patch of garden she kept in the extreme angle formed where the house and the barn came together.  
  
Tommy's wife Scarlett was, in his mother's words, a "cold hearted bitch". Tommy, however, didn't heed his mother's wise warning and went ahead and tied the knot. The knot started out a simple square knot; there were no kinks in the cord, and their marriage was going splendid, thank you very much. But as the years went by, the cord tangled under the strain of Scarlett's controlling, loveless attitude towards Tom. After ten years, the knot was so knobby and intricate that even if Tom had courage enough to file for divorce, it would have been impossible to unravel.  
  
In all actuality, Scarlett was not completely loveless. She loved two things, and two things only. She loved her garden, and she adored what she grew in it: beans. Every single spring, she planted her beans, and all the way until October she spent day in and day out puttering around in it, completely neglecting everything else. During the winter months she diligently ignored her husband. She didn't have a job; she opted for the title of "Housewife". In Tom's eyes, her job was "Fat Bitch Who Does Nothing Except For Order Tom Around And Cook Pot After Pot Of Beans".  
  
If you had known Scarlett, you would have agreed with Tom wholeheartedly. Whenever she wasn't in her garden, she sat her ample behind in a sagging mauve easy chair while Tom labored ceaselessly. In the Havelock household, common phrases uttered were not "Honey, let's go out for dinner, ok?" or "Sweetie Pie, do you mind taking out the trash for me?" What was more frequently said was "Tom, get me another beer... NOW!" and "Scarlett, I really am getting sick and tired of these beans." That last phrase was not spoken to Scarlett, however. During Tom's free time (limited if any), he would station himself in front of their bathroom mirror and practice putting down his wife. Tom was a complete and total coward when it came to his commanding wife. Maybe (not likely), if someone had told her that she was intimidating and a haggard old crone, she might have possibly been a bit nicer, but no one could screw up enough courage to do so. So she went on as an overpowering hag, and our story goes on...  
  
A/N: There's the first chapter! Somewhat of an introduction, hope you like it! R&R! 


	2. Caught a Cold?

A/N: I couldn't help but noticing that I didn't get many reviews, should I continue? I mean, I am definitely putting up this chapter but if no one thinks that I should keep going with my story I may abandon it... PLEASE R&R! This is where the action starts! (P.S. Muchas Gracias to my first reviewer!!!)  
  
Caught... A Cold?  
  
On an exceptionally chilly day in March, Tom had an unusual opportunity. Scarlett was sick, complaining of excess flatulence and constant nausea. It's the beans, thought Tom, but was extremely reluctant to say so. Instead, mindful of Scarlett's temper, he said, "Honey, I think probably you have a stomach virus."  
  
To which she replied, "Shut up, asshole, and call Dr. Philbaum!"  
  
He scurried obediently to do her bidding. He got on the line with the doctor's secretary (She's such a pretty little thing, Tom thought.) He scheduled an appointment for Scarlett that same day, and as she left, he called "Good luck, Scarlett!"  
  
I hope she has stomach cancer that-  
  
Where did that thought come from? I love Scarlet she's my wife-  
  
You don't love her you don't you don't you don't-  
  
Of course I do! She is a beautiful woman-  
  
She is ugly she stopped being beautiful when she came out of the womb oh dear sweet Tommy, you're in denial you hate her hate hate hate hate you hate her hate her hate her-  
  
I don't hate anyone-  
  
Yes you do you hate one person and that person you hate you absolutely hate with all your heart is Scarlett, Scarlett Havelock wife of Tommy Havelock you hate her you want her dead-  
  
NONONONONO-  
  
Kill her kill her kill her kill her make her bleed kill kill killlllllllll-  
  
Kill her? No I cant even kill a stray spider in the basement I cant kill-  
  
KILL HER-  
  
"Stop it!" Shouted Tom to the rouge voice in his head. Old Mrs. Henderson looked at him strangely... but then again, ever since he married Scarlett she didn't like him. He went inside. He was very distressed, but also intrigued. He had never thought that murder might be the answer to his problems.  
  
Kill her, what a good idea, I could stab her and no one would hear her screams Mrs. Henderson is away on the weekends, I could hide her body and it would be done, all done, no more Scarlett, no more Scarlett, how wonderful would that be, no more no more Scarlett no more no more no more no more...  
  
He shook his head violently. There was no way he would resort to such appalling behavior, it just wasn't right. Yet, the small voice in the back of his head grew stronger and stronger...  
  
Kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill kill-  
  
A/N: I hope you like it, I decided to get a bit creative with the voices... please R&R so I can decide if I want to continue!!!! ( 


	3. Tom Havelock's Free Time

A/N: I was home sick today, and after sleeping until 2:00, I decided to get up and write. I am newly addicted to writing, so I hope all of you like how I write because I have a feeling I will be doing quite a lot of it! ( Have fun with the newest edition to my story!  
  
Tom Havelock's Free Time  
  
Tom had free time. Possibly even hours of it, and in all honesty, he didn't know what to do with himself. Not having anything to do was a bad thing; because then the voice in his head would start again with its monotonous (and extremely violent) dirge: Kill her. Tom had no plans to entertain such nonsense, so he decided to help Scarlett out and break the soil in her garden, readying it for warmer days. Days when it would foster can after can of spray air freshener. Days it would spend incubating those horrendous beans.  
  
Lets be honest with ourselves, Tom, those beans don't even taste all that good, do they- thought Tom, with the air of someone coming upon an immense realization.  
  
Quite right, Tom, they taste like fried shit on a stick, if you don't mind me saying-  
  
NONONONONO SHUTUPSHUTUP I CANT HEAR YOU-  
  
Oh yes you can, Tommy old chum, you hear me loud and clear, because you don't really want me to leave; no way uh-uh, you like me because I am brave I can stand up to Scarlett, much more than stand up, too; I can KILL HER and you can kill her! It would be so easy you could just-  
  
Please please no I don't want to kill Scarlett...  
  
OH YES YOU DO NOW I KNOW YOU DO THAT WAS A PATHETIC ATTEMPT TO REGAIN CONTROL OF THE RATIONAL PART OF YOUR MIND TOMMY BUT I HAVE NEWS FOR YOU: I AM THE RATIONAL PART OF YOUR MIND I AM ITS ME NOT THE OLD TOMMY HAVELOCK LETS BRING IN THE NEW TOMMY HAVELOCK LADIES AND GENTLEMEN AND HERRREEEE HEEEE ISSSSS!  
  
With that one destroying thought, the "New Tommy Havelock" took power in Thomas Albert Havelock's brain.  
  
Tom once again shook his head violently and stood up. He stretched extravagantly, like a cat after a long catnap. He looked to his left at the peeling burgundy paint of the barn wall. He then turned his head slowly to his right. He saw the gray aluminum siding of his house; then he looked up and saw a small window in the center of the siding. Hmm, I wonder where that window goes? Wondered Tom. He hadn't even known there was a window there. He stood up and took a step forward and fell, hitting his head on the barn.  
  
Slowly, Tom opened his bowling-ball-heavy eyes. Looking around, he saw he was still in the garden. He got up carefully, excruciatingly aware of the intense pain in his left temple and his lower back. He gazed downward to find the cause of his fall. His eyes flickered over the frozen dirt, the hole, and up to the siding. He did a double take. The hole!? Thought Tom incredulously. He hadn't dug a hole! Then Tom realized his aching back wasn't because of the fall. He had unconsciously quarried a huge hole in the middle of Scarlett's garden. It was six feet long and three feet wide, and three feet deep. Suddenly, Tom felt a twinge of pride. I dug that, me! Old arthritic years are far, far off... and then Tom realized what he had done: He had dug a hole, big enough to fit a coffin. Hell, big enough to fit Scarlett! He thought. And then he realized what he meant to do- he meant to kill Scarlett, his wife of ten years, and bury her in her pride and joy: her garden.  
  
Kill Scarlett bury the bitch kill Scarlett then bury the bitch kill then bury kill then bury then Tom is a free man kill, bury, free, kill, bury, free...  
  
A/N: BOO! Scared ya, huh? This story is getting interesting even to me, as I write it! Please review!! 


	4. Dr Philbaum's Office

A/N: Thanks for everyone that reviewed! Even though two of the reviewers were my friends and the other one reviewed three times... that is ok! At least people are reading! Ok well this is a break from Tom, and it is kind of from Scarlett's point of view, hope you like!  
  
Dr. Philbaum's Office  
  
Scarlett stuffed her large behind into an uncomfortable plastic chair. She was at Dr. Philbaum's office waiting her turn in the small, stuffy waiting room. As she tapped her foot on the magenta Berber carpet, she thought,  
  
Could this doctor be any more damn inefficient?! And just look at that slutty receptionist, I'll bet she can't even type a whit! I'll bet she sleeps with the damn-  
  
"Mrs. Havelock, the doctor will see you now, hun." Said the secretary.  
  
The secretary in question had never slept with Dr. Philbaum. In fact, she was quite an accomplished typist and she had graduated 3rd in her class at Apple Hill Area High School. (Or as most as the students had called it, "AHA!") She detested her looks, and she wore baggy clothes to conceal her figure.  
  
Scarlett heaved through the door of the examination room, exerting all of her strength to hop up onto the table. The table uttered a small creak of protest and settled down to bear the overpowering weight of the 300- something pound woman. Dr. Philbaum walked in then, with the air of someone heading to the gallows.  
  
"Alright, Mrs. Havelock, what seems to be the problem?" Asked the doctor warily.  
  
"Doctor, I have perfectly awful pains in my tummy. Could you please help me?" she fluttered her eyelashes, as if flirting could make him heal her faster. Her flirting triggered one thing in him: his gag reflex.  
  
He coughed badly and said "Mrs. Havelock, your "awful" pains could be due to an excess of any number of foods-"  
  
"No, No! I do not want to hear it, my beans are perfectly fine!" She grunted. "I mean, I eat them all the time, and I am healthy as an ox!" With that statement, she emitted a loud fart, and a blush bloomed among her many chins.  
  
Dr. Philbaum then had to stifle two things: a choke and a laugh. He succeeded in not choking, but a womanish giggle squeezed through his lips.  
  
"Doctor Philbaum! I do NOT appreciate your perfectly rude attitude towards my obvious suffering! You can forget anyone in my family ever coming here again!" Scarlett said shrilly. In that moment, she reminded the doctor completely of a piglet voicing its protests to its mother.  
  
Scarlett stormed out of the room, and he heard her thunderous steps recede until she got onto the elevator.  
  
David Philbaum let out a huge sigh of relief, and then he started chuckling. His chuckling transformed into full-fledged belly laughter, and he laughed long and hard.  
  
~~~~~~  
  
Scarlett heaved herself into her car and it puttered off down the street, heading for home. If she were told that she would be dead and buried within 8 hours, she would have laughed out loud. 


	5. The Hoe

A/N: OOHH!! Here's where it gets REALLY good! The last chapter was a break from the action (learned that in Romeo and Juliet, baby! Hehe), so here I'm getting back to Tom. Have fun reading, and please review (again if you have before!)  
  
The Hoe  
  
Tom walked into his house. Unbeknownst to the small part of the old Tom Havelock still left, he was carrying the garden hoe with him. Whistling jauntily, he strolled through the kitchen and living room into the master bedroom. Tom threw the hoe onto the bed and undressed. He went into the bathroom and turned on the hot water. Stepping into the shower and leaning against the cool tile relaxed him. His back hurt like hell, but the hot water did it good.  
  
Whhheewwwww that feels nice, I think I just might stay in here for a while-  
  
Oh Tom, don't forget who's in charge, you still have to kill your wife today, don't get too relaxed! Haha-  
  
Uhhhhrrrmm... I don't want to kill Scarlett can't I just leave her? That's it! I could just get out of the shower, get the emergency money from under the sofa, and leave, and never come back-  
  
Uh- uh, Tommy, I don't think so!-  
  
He turned off the water and got out and dried off. He went into his bedroom, got dressed, and grabbed the hoe off of his bed. At that moment, he heard a sound- it was the sound of a battered old '89 Chevy going over the bump into their driveway... a sound he had heard countless times. Scarlett was home.  
  
Tom counted off five seconds, and heard the door creak open loudly. He counted off ten more seconds and he heard the door slam shut again. Having seen Scarlett's ritual of getting out of their car so many times, he could time it with precision. After first unbuckling herself, she shoved the door open. Then she swung one leg out, grabbed the roof of the car, and supported herself with it while she swung the other leg out (The roof had long been dented, right above the drivers seat.). She then stepped away from the car as if she was just going to walk away, and then turned around as an after thought and closed the door bodily, like a football player.  
  
While counting through this ritual, Tom crept into the kitchen. He stood by the entrance to the living room, facing the door, waiting. Finally he heard the telltale sound of the front porch sagging, and the rattle of her keys in the door. She swung the door oped, and was greeted with the sight of a grinning Tom holding the hoe up in the air. Holding the hoe like a lumberjack ready to make the first cut of the day, he let out a shout (war cry) and rushed forward.  
  
Scarlett was no gymnast, but she had a sufficient amount of speed, especially when she was chasing after Tom to do the laundry. Sidestepping quickly, she clouted him in the back of the head with one hammy fist as a reflex. He veered around, but focused in on Scarlett again. She turned to run away, and felt exquisite pain as the corner of the hoe dug into her meaty thigh. She sprawled onto the ground with a thunderous clunk. Tom advanced toward her menacingly.  
  
"Tom, what are you doing? I demand that you put that hoe down right now and I'll make us some dinner, promise! Even your favorite: beans!"  
  
With that final plea, Tom charged and swung the hoe. It thudded deep into her chest, and with a final earsplitting screech, she died.  
  
Tom calmly walked out into the barn, stowed away the hoe, and retrieved the pushcart. He rolled it out to the front of the house, up the ramp to the front porch (Scarlett could no longer get up the stairs), and into the kitchen. Using all of his strength, he heaved half of Scarlett's stiffening body onto the platform, walked around her, and got the rest of her up. Having almost no strength left, he leaned on the pushcart handle just to get it moving. Once it had started moving, it was a lot less trouble to wheel it around to the side of the house. He wheeled it into the corner of the barn and the house: He wheeled it into the garden. As if in a trance, Tom walked into the house, took another shower, and collapsed onto his bed. His final waking thought was:  
  
I'll bury her tomorrow.  
  
A/N: awww look at that, poor Scarlett's gone! ( boo-hoo, we all loved her, didn't we? Well, don't think this is the end, 'cause it isn't. So keep checking back, I will definitely have the next chapter up by Friday! 


	6. Scarlett's Childhood

A/N: A reviewer brought up a very good question: why is Scarlett the way she is? (was... haha) So I have decided to make a little in-between chapter, relating somewhat why she is such a bitch... I promise in the next chapter we will go back to Tom!  
  
Scarlett's Childhood  
  
Scarlett woke up. She rubbed her eyes sleepily and sat up with her feet hanging over the side of her twin bed. Yawning, she stood in front of her full-length mirror and examined her stomach and ribs. Large, purplish bruises were blossoming in a bizarre polka-dotted pattern there. She then turned to view her profile, and there were more. Yellowing patches of long- bruised skin stood out against the stark paleness of her arms. Warily, she laid her hand against her stomach and winced. She sighed, and selected a blue sweater from her sparsely populated closet. The forecast for that sunny day in May was 80 degrees.  
  
7:00 AM came, and Scarlett tiptoed down the stairs. The bus never waited, and she couldn't afford to miss another day of school; she had missed 20 days at it was. Much to her extreme distress, however, she heard a male voice calling. It was a deep, rich bass voice with a musical quality to it; a voice that you would expect to hear on a Jazz CD, or perhaps a record. But Scarlett didn't associate her father's voice with music, nor anything else remotely pleasant. When she heard her father's voice, she thought immediately of bad  
  
(beat bruise pain punch hurt blood)  
  
things. This was the voice she always dreaded to hear. But she heard it that sunny May morning.  
  
"Scarlett, are you meanin' to go off to that damn school of yours without giving a proper g'bye to your Father!?" boomed her father, more affectionately known as "Dad" (on his good days, at least.).  
  
"No, d-d-dad, I was just guh-g-going down the stairs fuh-for a se-sec-sec..." Stammered Scarlett, as she timidly made her way back up the stairs and to her dad's room. She pushed the door open and was greeted with a shout.  
  
"Scarlett, shit girl, how many times I gotta tell ya to knock first, goddammit?!" He bellowed, starting to ride from his bed.  
  
"Daddy, I'm sorry, I'm really sorry, I swear!" wailed Scarlett. She backed out, shut the door, and knocked on it.  
  
"No! You can't come in! Go downstairs and make me breakfast! Goddamn these women when they don't do their job! And get me another beer, wouldja, my mouth is bone-dry. Go on now, git movin'!"  
  
Another beer? Thought Scarlett. He's drunk already!  
  
"But daddy, I got school, and if I miss another..."  
  
"Holy Christ, child! I don't care 'bout no god-forsaken school, when the important thing is helping your father, hear me!?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Scarlett brought a hand up to her face, pre-empting the tears that were soon to fall. Now she would have to repeat the 7th grade, having missed so many days. As she headed downstairs, the tears began to spring from her eyes. They soon gushed to a waterfall that obscured her vision. She tripped and fell the last three steps to the living room floor. Sniffling, she lay on the ground for as long as she dared. Then she slowly got up to do her father's bidding.  
  
This will never end, I know it, it will never end-  
  
She would have never guessed how true that thought would be. 


	7. Scarlett's Burial

A/N: Ok heres the part where the story reverts back to Tom. I don't really have anything to say except I thank everyone that has reviewed! (Especially Dawnie and umm Lykos)  
  
Scarlett's Burial  
  
Tom woke up, and immediately wanted to be asleep again. His back felt like it has been ran over (numerous times) by an 18-wheeler. Shutting his eyes, he tried to urge his body back into its deepest state of sleep. It didn't work. He swung his feet over the edge of the bed, and attempted to get up. All of his muscles voiced their disapproval with sharp pangs of extreme pain. Groaning, he forced himself up and shuffled over to the bathroom. As he relieved himself, everything came flooding back to him.   
  
  
  
Scarlett is dead she's dead I can't believe it, I killed her, I attacked her with a hoe, I really did-  
  
Tom reeled and fainted dead away. He fell sideways off of the toilet and into the bathtub, smacking his head off of the shower wall. Mercifully, he didn't feel it.  
  
  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
  
He awoke several hours later, with a headache adding to his copious aches and pains. Tottering downstairs with the balance of a newly mobile toddler, he finally made his way into the kitchen. He opened a cabinet, and spent a few minutes searching before he found some aspirin. Grimacing, he swallowed it dry. It was evident to him what he had to do. He had to bury Scarlett, hide the evidence.  
  
The aspirin was finally kicking in, and he walked outside. He walked past the garden and into the shed, where he retrieved a pair of gardening gloves. Putting the gloves on, he walked around to the garden, and saw Scarlett, his ex-wife. She was pale and lifeless, and her eyes were glazed over. A gummy crust of hardening blood was forming in a macabre design on her chest. Her arms were lying in positions that couldn't be very comfortable... well... she was dead, so he guessed it didn't matter. He bent over and rolled Scarlett into the hole he had dug the day before. She landed in it with a thump. Tom then got the shovel from its resting place in the dirt and began filling in the hole.  
  
After about an hour's hard labor, he was finished. He had buried Scarlett, and was rid of her forever. His deeply ingrained obedience still had hold of him, however, and he went into the shed, got the bean seeds, and went back out to the garden. Before he realized what he was doing, he was planting seeds; planting seeds in neat little rows, up and down, up and down, until the garden was full. Though he was only awake for a couple hours, he was already exhausted, so he made his way up to his room and fell on the bed, immediately in a deep slumber. 


End file.
